


Hold On To Love

by steelorchids



Series: Random Karedevil fics [15]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Karedevil - Fandom
Genre: Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Canon Divergence, F/M, Faith issues (from Karen's POV), Matt's pretty banged up, Post Defenders, Pre Season 3, Slow Burn, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 09:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23349328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelorchids/pseuds/steelorchids
Summary: A devastated Karen visists Clinton Church the night after Matt "goes missing". Little did she know that Matt would be only a few feet away from her and ask for her.A little canon divergence fun thanks to LilyEllison's request.Okay, this is sad (obviously) but hopeful <3Enjoy!
Relationships: Matt Murdock & Karen Page, Matt Murdock & Sister Maggie, Matt Murdock/Karen Page
Series: Random Karedevil fics [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1195774
Comments: 32
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song ["Hold on to love"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e8jAQWpO1Ac) by Jason Becker feat. Codany Holiday

She wasn't quite sure why she was there, she wasn't Catholic, not even religious. For some reason, though, that was the only place where she felt comfortable after two hours of wandering around the streets of Hell's Kitchen. There was really no other place to go. She had spent the entire day with Foggy, both of them searching desperately for anything that would lead them to finding Matt. He was devastated too and had urged her to go home after fourteen exhausting hours, but when he parted she did not feel like going to her place, there was no way she'd be able to sleep knowing that Matt didn't make it home last night and wouldn't make it home tonight either. 

She left the office with no destination in her mind. She passed by local bars, parks, stores and theaters, her eyes looking for him on every person that crossed her path, on every corner, every vehicle, as if he was going to suddenly appear in one of them. He didn't, but she wouldn't stop looking until she found him. 

She walked and walked until she saw a nun stepping out of some stone walls across the street and something pulled her to it. She had only been to that church with Matt and Foggy once for the funeral of a criminal and the sole word _funeral_ made her gulp. The gate was open, and resting her legs a little would not hurt, so she decided to make a stop and go in. 

According to the schedule on the sign posted at the entrance the last service was over. It'd be open until ten, which meant she still had one more hour to sit quietly on a pew. The silence would only be interrupted by the echo of the wind crashing into the windows and the steps of the few people walking out of the nave. Other than that, it was very peaceful. The hustle and bustle of the city seemed so far away, that was probably the reason why Matt liked to come here often, to escape the chaotic world outside. 

She surely was not there to pray because she had forgotten how to do that long ago, it had been awhile, and even if she managed to, she didn't have any kind of faith, so it'd be just empty words spoken to a god who wouldn't listen. Still, that church reminded her of him because he did believe. As contradictory as that could be, his faith was elemental to his existence. She had even asked him once if it helped on days when the world was falling apart, when evil seemed to have taken over and he could see no silver lightning. She'd never forget his answer: "Not today." 

It struck her because she had grown to believe that leaving everything in the hands of this divine power should make things easier, lighten the burden, trusting that the intervention would make things fall back into place eventually, but his answer made her understand that it was much more complicated than that. 

She went in there looking for some solace, but she collapsed almost immediately and wept. It had been a stressful day and she hadn't had the chance to let it all out, not like this, not in front of Foggy, not with other people around. No one could understand the kind of pain she was feeling. She had lost Matt, but how can you lose something you never really had? 

She cried for the life she would not get to have with him, for their past, for the things they lived together, for the time they wasted. She regretted not calling him even when she was so desperate to do it because her pride and her insecurities were bigger than her love. Her tears became uncontrollable and her sadness more unbearable. She had cried rivers for her mother and her brother, but every loss was different. This was different 

In vain she tried not to think of the last time she saw him, their last conversation. If only she had known that that was the last time she'd be hearing him, perhaps she would've used different words, tried to convince him, but it was absurd, he would've gone to that building to save the world no matter what she or Foggy said to him. Nothing could be changed and it only made her grief grow, so she surrendered and let herself get wreathed in his memory, his absent presence involving her. That was the moment when, from the bottom of her inconsolable heart, Karen Page prayed for a miracle. She prayed for Matt to be alive and come back to her. More than anything in life she wanted to see him again. It was only with that insane thought, that miniscule particle of hope, that she would be able to carry on. 

Little did she know that the answer to that prayer was closer than she would've imagined. Several feet away, separated by three walls and a long hall, Matt was lying unconscious in one of the orphanage's rooms. He had been taken to the most secluded area in an attempt to avoid the curious looks of the children who still managed to sneak a peek. 

The nuns had done everything they possibly could but he did not wake up. They checked his vital signs every fifteen minutes and were beginning to worry that their resources would not be enough to feed and hydrate him in that state. 

Matt was, indeed, thirsty, and all his mouth could taste was the copper of his own blood. His lungs could barely hold enough air, they were too weak after the amount of water they had taken in, and his whole body ached down to the bones. 

But above all, he was confused. Where the hell was he? He tried to remember… The hand, Elektra, Stick, those people he'd just met, the city was in danger, what happened? Foggy brought him the suit, he argued with Karen… 

Karen. 

Was he dreaming or was it a nightmare? Amidst the horrendous smells of alcohol, medicine and old wood, of the unfamiliar women beside him, the strong incense and the flowers outside, he recognized her scent. Her sweet perfume was torturing him because he could not reach out to her, he couldn't even move or talk. He only breathed heavily and parted his lips, then heard one of the women say something quietly. 

"Get Maggie, tell her he's awake." 

Who was Maggie? His confusion was quickly turning into anger. The running steps, all his memories coming back to him, the sharp pain he was feeling and his inability to communicate were all overwhelming and made his heart race. 

He tried to get up and immediately felt a cold hand touch his arm and stop him. He wasn't strong enough to even sit by himself, and his head felt like it was about to explode. 

He focused on her scent again. It was her, he knew for sure, he even recognized her heartbeat. She was sobbing. He had to talk to her, he couldn't let her go. 

"Karen…" he muffled with the last drops of energy he still had left. "She's… outside…" 

Father Lantom had just entered the room accompanied by another nun. 

"Matthew, it's me, Paul," he told him as he approached the bed. "You're at the orphanage, you're okay, but you need to calm down. We're taking care of you." 

"Karen…" he repeated, ignoring the priest. "Please bring her." 

His mouth was completely dry and he was about to faint again. The nun that had just arrived readily walked up to him to check his temperature and administer fluids on him. 

"What is he saying?" her strict voice asked. 

"He's asking for someone, but…" 

"Absolutely not. No one should come in here. Look at him!" 

"Please, don't let her go… Bring her," the weak Matthew requested. 

Sister Maggie threw a confused look at Father Lantom and frowned upon seeing him leave the room without a word, but then she immediately went back to Matt and very carefully lifted his head a bit to help him drink some water. 

He seemed more calmed now and, despite his affliction, he found comfort in the warm hand that was helping him. It only took him a few drinks to feel tired again and fall back asleep. 

Sister Maggie had tended many wounds in the past, it was common for children to have accidents, but having to look after her own son, especially under those circumstances, was both a gift and a punishment from God. She placed his head on the soft pillow and put the glass away, hoping that the next day he'd be strong enough to eat by himself. 

After making sure he was sleeping, she left the room and, while crossing the hall, she overheard Father Lantom approaching the only person in the church at that moment, a young blonde lady who, by the way, seemed quite distressed. 

"Excuse me… Uh, Karen, right?" 

Karen looked up, confused, but remembered his face in an instant. 

"Yes?" she said, wiping her tears with her fingers and trying to get herself composed. "How can I help you?" 

"I have someone… that I need you to see."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure whether this will continue or will remain as a one-shot. There are so many fics out there about this that I don't want to sound repetitive. We'll see... *shrugs*
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

“Excuse me?” Karen asked, confused. She wasn't particularly acquainted with anyone at this church. 

“There’s someone that I need you to see.”

“I’m sorry, um, Mister… ”

“Lantom. Father Lantom.”

“Right. I'm sorry. Father Lantom. Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I was just passing by. It’s been a long day and I actually have to go.”

She was almost certain she'd hear the name Jesus and be invited to kneel down in front of the tabernacle. Although she was deeply broken and her soul was pitch-black, a religious talk was the last thing she could handle at the moment. She'd try to be polite and escape through the door as quickly as possible.

“Don’t worry, miss, I’m not trying to convert you, and if that was my intention my job would be to guide you and help you find the light deep within yourself, not drag you into something you’re not interested in. As I said, there’s someone that I need you to see.” 

“Who would that be?” she followed along, but stood up from the pew, giving the man clear signs that she was leaving. 

“Unfortunately I cannot provide you with a name. I've been sworn to secrecy. This person, you see, has dedicated himself to something that I like to believe is quite noble, although through highly reprehensible and dangerous means, and he needs to be surrounded by people whom he can trust, especially in the fragile state he’s in right now. He needs his friends.”

She stared at him, frowning, her heart pounding. 

“If this is a joke, it's not funny,” she said bluntly. 

“It's not a joke, but I have a feeling you still won’t believe me until you see for yourself, and at the same time, I can’t let you see him until I know I can trust you. I won’t break the seal of confession, so I need you to tell me, Karen. Can I trust you?”

The sacrament of penance. Of course. She couldn't exactly picture Matt confessing his sins, but for someone like him, a priest definitely made more sense than a therapist. 

Karen was also bound to that seal, even if not through a sacrament. She couldn’t just talk about Matt with someone who was almost a stranger to her, so she started thinking and putting the dots together: Midland Circle. Underground explosion. No trace... Clinton Church. 

How could such an irrational thing sound so logical in her head? 

Father Lantom's wide eyes were set on her, waiting for a sign, a gesture, a confirmation that she not only knew the person he was referring to, but also knew both sides of him.

"You know his secret," she said softly. 

"We wouldn't be having this conversation if I didn't." 

Tears began falling again and she put both of her hands on her mouth. She was shocked. How could this be? Father Lantom nodded and gave her a sympathetic smile. It was the answer to her agnostic prayer. 

“Matt’s alive,” she cried, and she had never felt her heart beat so fast.

“Come with me. I’ll take you to him.”

Even after hearing his words, she could not process them. It just wasn't possible. She had imagined him dead, buried under debris at the bottom of a building. The worst-case scenario was to never be able to find his body, and if he was found, she dreaded being asked to go to the morgue to identify his disfigured corpse. She had also dreamed he'd walk in the door any minute, smiling and assuring her, despite a few visible bruises and a broken arm, that he was fine, that this had only been a nightmare. But she never imagined he'd be at the church, that he'd be so close to her, or rather than that, that she'd be so close to him. 

Karen followed Father Lantom to the end of the hall. There was no use in trying to stay calm. She was so nervous that she began trembling and she doubted she was able to speak. Upon reaching the door, the small nun she had seen outside the church walked out of the room and sharply glanced at her before talking to Father Lantom. 

"He's awake again, but obviously very weak. I still don't think this is a good idea, Paul."

"Trust me, Maggie. I know what I'm doing."

The nun sighed and went away. The short conversation gave Karen the impression that the person she was taking care of was in very bad conditions. 

"Don't worry, this has been too much for her. She's not as tough as she looks." 

Karen, though, didn't mind the nun, she could only think about Matt. Was he really there? 

The old door creaked upon opening and her eyes immediately scanned the room. She found him in a fragment of a second. He was lying on one of the beds, bandaged, bruised, stitched, and clearly in a lot of pain, but he was, above all, very much alive. 

Matt was alive. 

She chose her steps carefully, she was almost paralized. Her subconscious must have warned her to walk slowly because the slightest sound would distress him, however, she was not able to stop her tears. The lump in her throat prevented her from saying anything, and she didn't even hear when the door closed behind her with Father Lantom outside. 

"Karen..." Matt said feebly, but loud enough for her to hear it and make her smile. 

"Matt, we were so worried," she told him as she approached him and kneeled next to him. 

"I'm sorry… I…" 

"Hey, don't… You need to rest." 

"I- I should've listened to you…" 

"Listen, what you and your friends did was incredibly brave. You guys saved this city, so don't think of anything else. You need to heal now, okay?" 

He gathered up some strength and raised his shaky hand to caress her cheek, his fingertips feeling the tears he had already been hearing and tasting. 

"You've been crying… "

She held his hand and laced their fingers together. It was the warmest she had felt in a long time. 

"I thought I'd lost you…" 

"There's so much… That I need to tell you…" he breathed and looked like he could pass out in any second. 

"Later, alright? You need to sleep. I'll come back tomorrow, I promise." 

"No… please, stay…" he asked her with the last drop of energy he had in him. 

Karen squeezed his hand, gently placed it over his stomach and tucked him in. Then she stood up, brushed his hair and dropped a soft kiss on his forehead. As she did, he stirred up a bit and she was scared she may have woken him up, but he was sleeping. 

Seeing him like this, as broken as anyone could be, reminded her just how equally broken she was inside. Her wounds could not heal, but somehow he always made her feel like she was an intact crystal. 

She wanted to hold on to him and never let go, yet she wasn't sure she deserved him. She dreaded the moment when she'd have to reveal her own secrets to him and wondered if, like tonight, he'd still beg her not to leave his side. At least for now he needed her, so she would stay for as long as he allowed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who encouraged me to continue with this story <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly, but surely, this story's going forward. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!

As soon as Matt closed his eyes he fell into a dream. There was a turmoil in his head and he wasn't capable of understanding what was happening until he realized he was experiencing everything again. He was underground, he could sense the rocky walls around him, he could smell the sweat and the thirst for power of the people they were fighting - if they could call themselves people. No noise was coming from outside, except… 

_Tic tac. Tic tac. Tic tac._

A bomb. 

They had to act quickly or they were all going to die. There was no time. They wouldn’t be able to make it. 

_Tic tac. Tic tac. Tic tac._

Everyone left. Everyone except her. The woman he once knew had changed, but a part of her was still there. She was in his arms when the explosion made the building collapse and generated a massive blast that broke them apart. 

“Elektra!” The body he was holding a moment ago had slipped away from him. He tried to search for her, focus on anything in order to track her, but her scent had vanished and there was no heartbeat to follow. Once again, he had lost her. 

In no time his senses were saturated and he was choking in that pit full of rubble, fire, and torment which might as well have been hell. Then a large, sharp object hit his torso and slit his skin, making him groan in pain. The copper reached his tongue and got mixed with the minerals present in the cold water. He made a futile attempt to swim, but it was his debilitated body against the aggressive wave that was now dragging him. And in case he wasn't disoriented enough, a brick struck him right on his head, leaving him stunned as the current carried him into the filth of some rusty drain pipes where oxygen was anything but abundant. If he didn't make it to the surface soon, he would suffocate, bleed out or die from hypothermia. 

_The martyrs, the saints, the saviors. They all end up the same way: bloody and alone._

On the verge of becoming unconscious, Matt thought this would be the end. He only hoped God would have mercy on his soul. He prayed that the lives of the ones he had saved would atone for his sins. He had done his part protecting the city the best he could, perhaps he would finally be able to rest. 

God's plan, however, was not for him to perish deep down in the river. His time had not yet arrived. 

"Matthew…" a voice called him.

It wasn't a voice he recognized. Or did he? It seemed as if he had known her his whole life. 

"Matthew, wake up. You're having another nightmare." 

Maggie rubbed a towel over his forehead and took his temperature. She felt relieved he no longer had a fever, but his mental state worried her as much as his injuries. Every time he woke up it was as if he was eleven again: nightmares, shivers and sweat. Being much braver than she'd ever been, who knew the kind of terrors he had gotten himself into, but she had no right to chastise his actions. Part of that stubbornness had been inherited from her after all, and while it was true that his life would've turned out differently had she been there for him, she still would've made a terrible mother. What if this was his destiny? Doing good for others in his own personal way, fighting and getting wounded for the sake of those in need. 

“Who are you?” Matt asked, his voice shaky and his mind still troubled. The place did not help. It brought him back to a time when he was sad, angry and alone all day and every day. The only part he would not erase from his childhood was his training, however, that would never have happened had any of his parents decided to stay with him. 

“I’m Sister Maggie. You probably don’t remember me, but I remember you clearly. Who would’ve thought this is what you’d become? The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Paul told me all about you. That was the only way he could convince me not to take you to a hospital or, worse, the police, when he brought you here.”

She sighed and set up to remove the gauze from his arm and his stomach. It was only five in the morning, but she wanted to get him ready early to avoid him from interfering with her daily activities. All the other nuns and the children knew how punctual she was and they’d bombard her with questions if they noticed her absence.

“I do remember you. Your voice and your scent.” He hissed when she wiped his skin with the saline solution, but didn't fail to notice the clenching of her jaw. “You were here back when…”

“Back when you were a stupid, young boy,” she said sharply. “You haven’t changed much as far as I can see. So much violence...”

Matt let out a weak scoff and his muscles ached instantly. “Is that how you talk to everyone under your care, Sister?”

“Only the ones who need a lesson.” She kept cleaning him up and Matt couldn’t stop thinking about that scent. There was also something so familiar about her gestures, her skilled fingers mending his wounds, and even her clothes and the silver cross hanging over her neck. 

“I’ve learned my lesson already.”

“Well, it doesn’t look like you have. That suit of yours is proof of it.”

“What happened to my suit?”

“It was destroyed, of course. The last thing we need in this orphanage is for the police to come searching for a wreckless vigilante.”

“Don’t worry. They won’t.”

“And how do you know that, may I ask? Your friend here did.” She pointed at Karen who was sound asleep on the bed right beside them. 

“Please leave her out of this.”

“Yet here she is. You can’t leave everyone one out, it's impossible. But you’ve probably learned that already.”

“Yes. The hard way.”

“What’s your plan then? Because what you do has consequences, and the people who appreciate you are not exonerated.”

“What about the people I have saved? Doesn’t that count for redemption? God gave me these skills for a reason. Do you think he expects me to just sit back with so much cruelty going on?”

“Don’t put the weight of your sins on God’s shoulders, Matthew.”

Matt turned pensive and let her go on with her work. He noticed she was a very gentle and patient caregiver despite the toughness of her words. After making sure the stitches on his face were still in place, she removed the sheet from the bed in order for him to use the bathroom and change his clothes. He was able to sit, but when he tried to stand the room began spinning and his legs were numb, hence he ended up landing abruptly on the floor instead. The noise awoke Karen. She got up as soon as she noticed what had just happened and put one of his arms around her shoulders to help him.

“C’mon, you got this,” she told him softly, although seeing him like this was breaking her. “Let me know when you’re ready, okay?”

He nodded, took a deep breath, and after a few seconds gathered some energy to get back on his feet and walk. Maggie accompanied him for his bath, mindful of keeping his wounds dry, and by the time they were done, he was exhausted. When they got back in the room, Karen had changed the linen and Matt sat down on the bed, leaning against the headboard. 

Sister Maggie gave him a strong analgesic she had brought with her and announced she’d be back with breakfast within a few hours. 

“Thank you,” Matt told her.

He heard the nun shut the door and her steps gradually disappeared into the corridor. The smell of pills and antiseptics that almost made him nauseous contrasted with Karen's sweet perfume. She was a little tense, surely not used to seeing him in this state. Her lips parted as if to say something but then she held back. He seemed so fragile, very different from all those times when she had seen him fight.

“I must look awful, and trust me, I feel even worse,” he said. 

“Yeah, you do look like shit,” she answered, a little more relaxed.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad to be here.”

She took the vague smile he gave her as an invitation to sit on the edge of his small bed. He moved slightly to give her space and then grimaced. His spine was killing him. 

“You should try to sleep,” she suggested.

“Yeah, in a minute. This will take me awhile, but I will heal. I know.”

“Is that optimism I hear?”

"Well, the recovery cannot be any worse than what I already went through. I’ll be fine." 

“We thought you were dead,” she said, unable to hold her tears. 

Matt got filled with guilt. It was all his fault. He cupped her face with his hand and caressed her jawline.

“Would you please forgive me? For everything? I should’ve been honest. I told you I would leave this life behind, that I didn’t miss it, but...”

“Matt, it’s alright. I get it, okay? Foggy and I were scared to death, but you did what you did because you had to and wanted to. I know you tried to leave Daredevil behind, but the world doesn't exactly help in keeping your decision, you know? It’s hard to ignore the injustices out there, especially with your gifts.” 

“I don't think it's worth it anymore. I get hurt. People get hurt... even under my watch. I need to put an end to it.”

“For what it's worth, many of us are still breathing thanks to you...” Her lower lip trembled and she stood up. It was complicated. She loved him and that included all of him, but she admired his courage as much as she wanted him safe, and this wasn’t the first time he had almost lost his life - the risks were always high. She also knew the law was not enough and he had proved to be unsuccessful in abandoning a part of him, thus dissociation was simply out of the question for her, it would be like splitting her heart in half. 

“Look, tomorrow will be another day,” she added. “You’re tired, I’m tired, we’re not thinking straight. Maybe we should rest.”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“Okay.” She helped him lay back down on the bed and tucked him in. Her breathing left a warm thread of air over his skin. 

“Thank you for staying, Karen.” She didn’t say anything in response but he did hear her heart skip a beat. She kept coming back in spite of him treating her so badly. It wasn't fair for her. He had promised not to lie again and he failed. He needed to change that.

Karen went back to her provisional bed. She lay on her side, half-covered with a cotton sheet, and with a few strands of hair over her face. Matt’s spine still hurt and the medication hadn't taken effect yet, so he focused on her in search for relief and let her steadily-beating heart lull him back to sleep. 

She was right. Tomorrow would be another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
